


The Subway

by madlaw



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 05:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlaw/pseuds/madlaw
Summary: Root and Shaw discover they're soul mates.





	The Subway

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am WAY too cynical a person to write a soul mate AU, even a short one. But I've read a lot of them recently and I didn't come across a single one where Root's a chef (pizza delivery person, yes - barista, yes - waitress, yes); which seemed to me a sure way to attract Shaw. Food. 
> 
> So anyway here it is. It's a lot of canon theft mostly. I may add another short segment if people are interested. Didn't really see the need to explain about the first words between soul mates being inked, but maybe that's something else I might lengthen a little.

Since she’d gotten back to New York, Shaw’d made it a point to reacquaint herself with the underground dining scene.  Not the foodie places written up in every ‘insider’ blog.  Rather the places with real food and no PR firm promoting the ‘nouveau’ cuisine du jour and a bunch of yuppies competing for reservations.

She overheard a bartender bragging about this place.  He made the steak sound like an orgasm on your tongue.  You needed a reference and a private number to score a table.  ‘Romeo’ offered to give Shaw the information if she’d let him come on her tongue, but changed his tune when she demonstrated how easily she could make sure he’d never come again.

She wasn’t really expecting much; she didn’t like her steak dressed up like a peacock.  She preferred the cut to speak for itself, aided at best by a little salt; medium rare the way nature intended.  But she’d been intrigued enough to check it out.

She followed the instructions, which led her to Chinatown and a nondescript stairway marked as the entrance of a barbershop.  Several flights down she ends up in a storage area.  This is ridiculous.  She’s a retired spy and even for her the cloak and dagger routine is over the top.  But she’s already here so might as well see what all the fuss is about, even if only to tell the pretentious chef the food sucks. 

She inserts two coins into the vending machine and enters the number 3141 into the keypad.  The vending machine opens and Shaw pauses before stepping down an additional flight of stairs.  She’s scowling by the time she reaches the bottom. 

It’s a platform; she’s in an abandoned subway station.  Okay points for ambiance; the place is pretty cool.  Chandeliers resembling gas fixtures and wall sconces bathe the platform in a soft glow and the low arches contribute to the intimate feel of the space.  The single subway car has been converted to a bar and since there’s no hostess to speak of, Shaw makes herself comfortable on one of the industrial drafting stools lining the bar. 

 

* * *

 

Root created the space in order to indulge her hobby between jobs.  As she traveled the country she’d become interested in cooking.  Eating take-out every day got old really fast, but the need to keep a low profile didn’t leave her much choice.  So she started renting motel rooms with kitchenettes and cooking for herself.  She found she had a talent for it and it certainly beat fast-food by a landslide.

As her reputation grew, it allowed her to be more selective in the jobs she accepted.  Now she only takes a few jobs a year and it leaves her time to indulge her passion for cooking.  Upon occasion the subway’s also provided an excellent avenue for fulfilling contracts involving hard targets. Tonight is one of those nights. 

She doesn’t usually accept government contracts, but this one is particularly lucrative and she does love a challenge.  The target’s former employer considers her a loose end.  They attempted to take care of her in-house but failed miserably, which created the opportunity for Root to collect a cool million, tax-free. 

Root’s known for being thorough.  She knows everything about Sameen Shaw, sociopath and former government assassin.  Under other circumstances Root would love to get to know her better; her file’s intriguing.  Since a government hit squad couldn’t take her out head-on, Root decided a different approach was needed.  In her research she discovered, quite accidentally, Shaw’s love for food.  It’s not often the stars align in exactly the right way and Root decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

* * *

 

She’s talking to one of the guests when she sees Shaw walk in; she’s gorgeous.  Her file really didn’t do her justice.  Her dress hugs in all the right places and her ass makes Root’s mouth water.  What a waste.  But Root’s a professional; she accepted the contract and she will carry it out.

But there’s no harm in indulging her curiosity.  She waits until Shaw’s sipping her bourbon before approaching.  Their eyes meet and there’s intensity in Shaw’s gaze Root immediately wants to penetrate.  Shaw watches her approach and Root smiles.  Shaw’s face remains expressionless, but Root sees the spark in her eyes. 

She extends her hand but Shaw doesn’t take it.  “I take it you’re the infamous chef,” she smirks.  Root drops her hand abruptly.  Fuck.  That’s a complication she did not anticipate. 

But there's no getting around the words Shaw just said, which are inked over her heart.  She’s never wanted a soul mate.  She’d learned early and the hard way the universe is chaotic and cold and there is no plan.  But on the off chance she’s wrong, maybe killing her soul mate isn’t a good idea; it might attract the wrong kind of karma.  Well, she’s always loved a challenge.  “Oh sweetie, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Shaw downs her drink and stands hastily.  “That’s my cue.”  She pushes past Root angrily.  Root briefly considers letting her go, but the consequences will most likely be deadly for both of them; might as well have some fun first.  “Sameen wait.”  Shaw freezes because this woman may be her soul mate but there’s no reason she should know her name.  She turns and looks at Root coldly, her tone furiously calm.  “How do you know my name?”

Root smiles but doesn’t answer the question.  “You can call me Root.”  Shaw scowls.  Why isn’t this woman afraid of her?  “Probably best to have this conversation in private,” Root smirks, her tone suggestive.  “My place or yours?”

 

* * *

 

Shaw believes in soul mates; her parents proved it.  But she’s not anyone’s soul mate.  “I don’t know what you’re expecting, but I don’t do soul mates.”  Root pouts, “don’t be so hasty Sameen.”  Shaw rolls her eyes.  It figures her soul mate would be the most annoying person she’s ever met.  “You might change your mind.” 

 

* * *

 

“So you’re a contract killer and I’m your target.”

“Admit it.  You like me better now that you know I’m not just a chef.”

“Not the point,” Shaw growls.  Root grins widely, “I knew it!”  Shaw rolls her eyes; of course her soul mate would be a perky psycho.

“So how much?”  Shaw’s curious how much of a threat her former employers consider her to be exactly.  “A million.”  Shaw’s kind of flattered.  That’s a lot of money.  “I’d kill you for a million dollars.”  She tells Root honestly.


End file.
